The Wheel Turns
by Katyla
Summary: A short little fanfic I wrote one evening while I was bored. Rand broke the world quite some time ago, but the fear still remains. A Green Sister is sent on a mission to the Borderlands, and subsequintly this little story takes place. Please R&R!!!


**Disclaimer:** I do not own "The Wheel of Time" series, nor any characters or the original plot.                     nor do I gain any compensation for the writing of this story.

A/N: Ok, this is just a little story I wrote one evening when I couldn't sleep. It's not particualerly good, but I wanted everyone's opinion on it. It plays off after Rand broke the world and all know chars are DEAD. The countries are different, the people have changed and pretty much, I have made it the way I want it!

**Please read and review!!!!                                                                           **  

The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave birth to it returns again. Yet all are reborn, and all that was will be again. Some things never change and yet nothing is ever the same. Let the Wheel weave as the Wheel wills.__

_"Okiate oh'he ter'iou, na'nera, na'nera, oh'he he'iou._" The words of the old, traditional bridal hymn faded away as the bride and groom went to stand before the Queen.

"Today we see the merger of the Daughter-Heir of Medar, and the Second-Son of the King of Enard."

The Queen smiled down at the couple. "All in favour of the marriage, please rise."

As one, all people present rose and said: "I am in favour."

"Then it is done!" the Queen said and the bride and groom rose.

Remar walked to his sister and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Congratulations, I always said that you'd be the first to be married."

Werdla shot him a grin as she allowed her new husband to draw her to the dance floor and Remar shook his head. He was glad that his sister had gotten married. She needed the stability of a husband as much as her country needed the trading that would surely come from the merger. 

A young woman with fiery red hair stood up and walked to the raised platform where the orchestra was readying their instruments. She was a pretty lass, and any other time he would have asked her to dance, but not tonight. Tonight he had other things to think about. 

As the woman began to sing, Remar slowly made his way through the crowd of shimmering silk gowns and puffed-up cotton trousers. His target for that night was the strangely stunning young woman who had arrived at the gate of the palace that very morning: Katyla Melanshar, daughter of the Head of House Melanshar, she claimed to be. His mother, the Queen of Medar, had an Aes Sedai advisor,   who had fainted dead upon seeing the Lady Melanshar. The young woman had arrived at the gates and demanded right to stay in the palace. She had all the right to the privilege; her House alone probably had more estates and riches than his mother's accountant could dream of. 

He made his way through the crowds in a flurry of silky curtsies and flashy bows. Some people might think that those living on the Borderlands were rough barbarians, but they were greatly mistaken. Just because you had to be permanently cautious of trolloc raids and other Shadowspawn crossing the Border, it did not mean that you couldn't enjoy the finer things in life. The hall was hung with tapestries showing scenes of battles, heroes and monster-slaying. The women were all decked in long silk gowns with puffed-up lace aprons over them. The more lace, the richer the woman's husband. Unmarried women without aprons gave him approving glances with eyes full of obvious invitations. He murmured quick words to those who were important and ignored those who were not. 

The men were another story. They all wore puffed-up cotton pants stuffed into knee high boots and bulky coats over white shirts. With all of them he had to stop and make small talk, and talk about the last trolloc raid. His father had always told him that in the Borderlands you could ignore any woman if you really had to, but if you ignored a man you might find yourself facing a horde of trollocs alone. Fortunately, most of the men were too busy eating and talking in small groups that they didn't even notice the First Son slipping by. Through a parting in the crowd he caught sight of a flash of blue silk that was cut in a Shendarian fashion. Pushing his way past two women babbling about, of all things, when he was going to get married, he succeeded in almost running over his "prey". 

She was a short woman with dark black hair and an olive skin. Her eyes were deep hazel brown and her mouth was generous and full. She lifted an arched eyebrow and inclined her head ever so slightly, almost like a queen to her favourite lover. 

"Lord Remar." Her voice was soft and musical. Was it just his imagination or was there a slight hint of amusement in her voice?

"Lady Melanshar." His bow was more generous than strictly necessary, but his voice remained strictly formal. "Are you enjoying the wedding?"

"Yes, but that is not the real reason that you want to talk to me, is it?" She was openly amused now. Her brown eyes seemed to see right through him and into his soul. 

He cleared his throat, and a small smile played at the corner of her lips. "I was just wondering why a woman would travel to the Borderlands alone and unaccompanied. It is mere curiosity." Light, this woman made him nervous. It was like being caught between facing a Myrddraal and a Questioner of the Light and having to explain the two of them to each other. 

"I always travel alone. Besides, this trip is of great importance to me." She regarded him with cool eyes tilted upward and yet she managed to seem much taller than him. "Curiosity leads to untimely death, First Son." 

Her smile was mocking, and it bordered on disrespect. "I have business here." She smiled. "Where I come from, women are allowed out of the house without an escort." 

Then it was Remar's turn to lift an eyebrow. "You have quite liberal views, Lady Melanshar. Maybe we should have a talk." He held his arm out to her, and she took it. "But first, let's dance." He led her to the dance floor and the nobles opened a respectful space for them. 

Nevertheless, it did cause a stir. Her dress was very rarely seen and many of the women thought it was scandalous. They never said so outright but he was smart enough to pick it up. He had to admit that the tight dress hinted at more than most women would show in their own houses, but it somehow fitted her. She was a graceful dancer, she seemed to glide while she managed to make the other women seem to stumble through the steps. 

It wasn't rare for the First Son to dance with guests, but with weddings on everyone's mind, most were probably trying to gauge what they would get out of a marriage between a First Son and the Daughter of the most prosperous House in Shendar. When they stopped, he led her out into the garden to a bench beneath a large ash tree. She sat down gracefully and arranged her skirt around her.

"You wanted to talk to me?" The light from the candles played softly on her hair and reflected in the deep pools of her eyes. 

"I have never been out of the Borderlands, at least, not as far as your country." He lifted his shoulders. "I have been taught a bit of everything about all the countries, but it's not the same as actually talking to someone from another place."

Her laugh was musical and delighted. "So you want to know if the women in my country order their men about, hit them if they don't do what they're told fast enough, and pretty much behave like men?" She got up. "No unfortunately, it doesn't work that way." She gave him a smile. "Now..." the smile faded into a look of shock as she stared past his head. 

"Light!" Remar whirled around to see a Half-man charging at them, a horde of trollocs in his wake. "Run!" he called to her, but even as he did he was shocked to see a bar of liquid flame shoot from her outstretched fingertips, and suddenly the Half-man wasn't there anymore. It was like it had just evaporated. All the trollocs were lying on the ground screaming in agony, but even as they did, more poured over the garden wall. 

"Run!" she called. "Warn those inside!" Balls of flame where now flying in the general direction of the oncoming mass. Even as he turned to run inside, he could hear the clash of steel from inside the hall. He turned back to face her. "Are you going to be okay?"

In the faint light of her Fire balls he could see her roll her eyes at him. "Yes! If you charge out here like some wool-brained milksop, there is a very big chance that I might just hit you!" She paused a second to throw another Fire ball. "Quickly! Fire isn't my strongest Element, so I don't have a lot of control over it." Even as he turned to run inside, he was blown forward by an immense blast that shook the whole palace. He turned around to see fountains of molten rock blast through the air sending trollocs flying. 

"Oh, for Light's sake, run!" So he got up and ran. The scene inside the hall was chaos. Trollocs poured in from every window, door and even the roof. Men and trollocs were fighting everywhere, and even the women had joined in brandishing chairs and table daggers. The women might have been meek and mild with their husbands, but they would not allow trollocs to spoil a perfectly wonderful evening. Even as he entered, a group of trollocs charged at Remar and he was forced to duck and run to find a weapon. Grabbing a sword from the white hand of a dead soldier, he charged at the trollocs with the battle cry of Medar. 

The men and women in the hall rallied to his call and re-doubled their effort. There was a tremendous flash of light and Lady Melanshar and the Queen's advisor came barging in, blasting trollocs left and right. He thought that it was strange that only Theselin Sedai was hurling Fire, but a smart man never questioned an Aes Sedai. Lady Melanshar, on the other hand, was holding a guard's sword and doing a good job of carving big holes in the trollocs. Even with her hair dishevelled and her clothes torn she still managed to seem like a queen gliding to her throne. Not even the bloody sword in her hand managed to spoil the effect. She called something to the Aes Sedai. (Now that he thought about it, he supposed that Katyla had to be Aes Sedai, too.) Theselin Sedai shook her head  and Katyla gave her a level look. 

There was a cry of outrage from Theselin and suddenly Katyla threw a hand upwards. She seemed to quiver where she stood and even where he stood dodging trollocs, he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He could almost feel the waves of Power flowing through her and into the hall. Following her arm upwards with his eyes, he saw what she was pointing at. Just under the high-pointed ceiling a storm was brewing. With obvious effort she pulled her hand down and pointed at the nearest trolloc. A brilliant flash of white light, lightning streaked down and hit the trolloc. Even as it burst into flame, yet another trolloc was hit and the lightning kept coming faster and faster until all of the trollocs were either on flame or running. 

Killing the last trolloc left battling with him, he turned to see the lightning stop and Katyla tumble forward, a Myrddraal's sword in her back. Theselin Sedai gave the Myrddraal one look and lifted her hand, a bar of solid light flowing from her hand to the Myrddraal. It didn't even have time to cry out before it disappeared. Running to Katyla he saw her get unsteadily to her feet and collapse into Theselin. 

He didn't know why, but he suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to run to her, so he ran. He got to her side the moment that the Medarians gave a cheer of victory. The wound where the Myrddraal had struck was only as big as his fist. It didn't look as serious as he had been sure it should have looked, but he knew that even the smallest cut from a Myrddraal's dark blade was enough to kill. Theselin was kneeling beside Katyla with her hands on the other woman's head. 

Suddenly Katyla's eyes opened in shock and she started to shake. It lasted only a few seconds before Theselin removed her hands and allowed Remar to pick Katyla up and carry her to her room. As he walked out, he saw Theselin's Warder, Frandrer, dash in and support his weakened Aes Sedai. Carrying Katyla up the curving staircase, he wondered about the events of the evening. Trolloc raids were common enough in the Borderlands, but they had never attacked in such a large number before, not since the last Breaking and the Trouble Years that followed, anyway. Entering the guest quarters of the palace, he walked to Katyla's room and nudged the door open. Laying her still sleeping form onto the bed, he went in search of some servants. 

Katyla woke two days later feeling fine but ravenously hungry. Lifting her head off her pillow she saw Remar sleeping soundly in a chair next to the window.

"He's been keeping watch over you for the past two days." Theselin's voice was thin and reedy, just like the woman herself. "He wouldn't leave." She picked up a tray and brought it to Katyla. "Eat. It took a lot of your strength to heal you." Theselin always thought that just because Katyla was of the Green Ajah she didn't know squat about healing. 

"Thank you, Theselin." Katyla gave her a gracious nod. It would do well for Theselin to remember that Katyla was the stronger of the two of them. "And thank you for saving my life." Katyla took a sip of tea. "I know that if you hadn't used balefire, I would have died. So I thank you for that."

Theselin gave her an uncertain nod. Balefire was forbidden by Tower laws, and for a good cause. When one used Balefire, the objects it struck were unmade so completely that the Threads were burned out of the Pattern. So in other words, the object ceased to exist. Every time it was used, it was like time was lost. The wound that should have been fatal wasn't so big, because the Half-man didn't have time to push it in deep enough. In the first recorded War of the Shadow, whole towns were destroyed with Balefire before both sides found the danger of it. 

"And," Katyla concluded, "I am sorry for wrestling the Power from you when we were linked, but it was needed."

"I know." Theselin said and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "I just wonder why there was such a great number of trollocs, and so many Myrddraal."

"I know," Katyla said and shifted the tray on her lap. "look in my bag, underneath the silk dresses." Theselin got up and walked over to Katyla's saddlebags. After rummaging around for a bit she stood up with a cloth wrapped bundle. Giving it to Katyla, she intently watched as Katyla unwrapped it. Katyla gave a small curse as her bare hand touched the statue of a man with a serene face and dressed in flowing robes. 

"The Choedan Kal _ter'angreal_!"  She looked as pale as a sheet. "And the male one at that!" she looked panicked, as she well should. The _ter'angreal _ would link any man able to channel to the most powerful _ sa'angreal _evermade. The Choedan Kal had been made in the Age of Legends, but had never been tested. In the Age of the Second Breaking it had been used, along with its female counterpart, to cleanse the male half of the True Source from the Dark One's taint. The female _ter'angreal _had been destroyed in the project but the male one still remained.

"Can you imagine the damage that could be done if one of the Forsaken was to get his hands on this?" Katyla's voice was firm and cold. "This would make even the weakest Asha'man as strong as the strongest Forsaken. If not stronger." 

"Then what are you doing taking that thing out of the White Tower?" Theselin was bristling.

Katyla laughed. "You are a fool if you think that the White Tower is safe. Do you honestly believe that the Cleansing got rid of all the Black Ajah and Darkfriends?" The look she gave Theselin was far from friendly.  "If you, Theselin Shar'Meroth Al'Yuat, truly believe that, then we are in graver trouble than we could imagine." About a hundred years after the second breaking, just after the rebuilding of Tar Valon, every Sister was part of a project to try and rid the world of any who followed the Shadow. Theselin had been one of the forerunners of the operation, but she could not have been fool enough to actually believe that there was no-one left who followed the shadow. 

Katyla had not even been of off  her mother's apron strings at the time but she had paid enough attention in all her classes to know what had happened. "The Black Tower is out of the question, since the men will never be able to keep their hands off it. So there is only one place for me to take it, and destroy it if need be." Her brown eyed gaze was chilling. "That place is the Eye of the World." 

"B...but that _place_ is on the other side of the Blight! No-one is even certain whether it really exists! Moiraine Damodred's diary is no certain assurance that it really is there!" Theselin was obviously shaken. 

"There is only one way to find out, isn't there?" Katyla's look was one of calm resolve. "That is what I will do Theselin! Don't stand in my way." For a long time the two women's gazes locked until, finally, Theselin dropped her eyes. 

Katyla suddenly found that there was nothing left to eat on her plate. "Please hand me my dress so I can get going. The longer I stay, the bigger the chance of a second attack."

Theselin opened her mouth as if to argue, but at one look from Katyla she dropped her eyes and handed Katyla a purple silk dress. Wrapping the _ter'angreal_ safely in its cloth wrappings, Katyla grabbed her bags and headed out of the room.

The two women were so caught up in their discussion that they did not even notice when Remar woke. Pretending to be asleep he sat there listening to their conversation. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to jump up and tell Katyla Sedai that she was mad. When the two women finally left the room, Remar counted to twenty and jumped up, letting the blanket that covered him drop. Walking down the hall he had no trouble finding out that Katyla had made her way down to the stables. 

He was just in time to see her mount her bay mare and canter off. Calling to one groom to saddle his horse, Remar ordered the other to find a servant to pack his saddlebags. He didn't know why, but he knew that he couldn't allow Katyla to get out of his sight. 

As the one groom came running with his horse and another with his saddlebags, Remar cursed under his breath at their slow pace. Grabbing the saddlebags roughly from the one groom, he quickly tied it to the saddle of his big bay warhorse. Mounting up, he placed his heels to the frisky animal's flanks and galloped after Katyla.

Katyla was becoming increasingly aware that someone was following her. It was just something in the way that leaves would rustle behind her, or the soft breathing of a horse that breathed heavier than her own mare, Jurlaine. The person hadn't been following her for long, but she hated surprises. Booting her horse into a gallop, she went straight for a clearing up ahead. Embracing the True Source, everything suddenly became so much more alive, in a way. She could smell the leaves on the ground, and she could see the smallest detail of the withered berries in a small shrub. Ducking into the clearing she dodged around a shrub and waited for her pursuer.

Remar saw Katyla boot her mare into a gallop and cautiously nudged his horse into a canter. The path there was small and there were a lot of places where she could have ducked into the forest. He saw a clearing upfront and made for it. Suddenly, as his horse's hooves struck the first dirt of the clearing, the stallion reared and Remar found himself on his backside in the dust, unable to move. The only part of him he could move was his head. He knew the feeling. He had once experienced it when Theselin Sedai had found him snooping around in her rooms when he was a little boy. 

The Aes Sedai had tied him up with the Power and carried him upside down to his Swords Master for the spanking of his life. He looked up as a pair of black riding boots landed next to him. "If you look up my skirts Lord Remar, I will give you the beating of your life!" Katyla warned. He suddenly found himself being lifted into standing position and his bonds being released. "Now, what do you want?" She peered at him in the half-darkness of the coming night.

"To be your Warder." He did not know what made him say it, but the moment he did, he knew that it was the right thing to do.

She regarded him coolly. "Are you sure?" Her gaze was piercing and the scent of her filled his nostrils. He had not even known that she had moved closer to him till she was standing on her tip-toes to look him in the eye, her hands on his chest. "I cannot ask you to follow me where I am going, and I can't take the responsibly for your life. Let me do what I must, and if I'm alive after that we can talk again."

"No," he said. "I know what you're going to do and I won't let you do it alone." The look that she gave him made him wonder if that was the right thing to say.

"I should have known that you would be awake." She sighed. "If that is what you want, then it will be that way. But you look out for yourself! I will not think kindly of you if you manage to get yourself killed over a stupid reason! Are we clear on that?" Her gaze was stern, but there was something in her voice that convinced him that she was quite pleased. 

He did not even bother to answer her, but slowly went down onto one knee. She gave him a small smile and gripped his head in her hands. A heat like all the fires of the world swept through him for what felt like an eternity, and when it passed, he felt a small knot of emotions, a sense of awareness that was Katyla, in the back of his head. 

"Well, my Warder." she said, a small smile playing on her lips. "We have work to do." Mounting her horse, she only gave him enough time to dust himself off and mount his own horse before setting off at a brisk trot. Somewhere in the back of Remar's head it felt that he had known Katyla all his life, and that the missing piece in his life was finally returned to him. As he followed her dust trail, he knew that that was going to be a long trip.


End file.
